


how it feels being by yourself in the rain

by madnessiseverything



Series: cr daily drabbles [10]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancing in the Rain, First Meetings, Fluff, Meet-Cute, initially started for day five of beau week, mentions of beau's parents, well beau's already human but you get me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 06:37:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18632806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: Beau leans back again, but finds her eyes drifting towards the girl. She has stopped spinning now, but is instead starting to swing her legs, shoulders shaking from side to side to music only she seems to hear. Booted feet kick at puddles, leaving sprays of water to fly through the air. At least someone is having a better day than her, she muses and finds something in her chest loosen at the sight of the girl dancing with pure joy.or the one where Beau sees Jester dancing in the rain and can't quite get it out of her head.





	how it feels being by yourself in the rain

**Author's Note:**

> well this is late! i meant to write this for day five of beauweek aka lesbian visibility day, but life happened so here we are. this is also partially influenced by the massive downpour i was caught in yesterday evening. fingers crossed that i don't get sick :P hope you enjoy some meet-cute and dancing in the rain.
> 
> title from someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic

Beauregard slams the door behind herself with an angry huff. She pays no mind to the pouring rain, anger making her steps slam against the tarmac as she storms away from the property. Her chest feels wound tight, pressure pushing down on every inch of her skin. She makes her way to the park with the feeling that her blood might just boil over.    
  
The rain soaks into her tank top and sweats, making them stick to her skin uncomfortably. She doesn’t stop walking, but the anger slowly dissipates the longer the rain drums against her head. It leaves behind a mess of disappointment and resignation. “Fuck,” she exhales as the park comes into view. “Piece of shit family.”    
  
She kicks at the ground and walks towards the awning on the sides of the concrete skating area. With a loud sigh, she drops onto a seat and leans her head back to stare at the rickety construct above. “Fucking fantastic day,” she says out loud to nobody in particular and crosses her arms in front of her chest. Old graffiti looks back at her, a phone number or two scribbled against the metal bars.    
  
It isn’t Beau’s fault that her parents have such sticks up their asses that they can’t handle a daughter like her, she muses and lifts her legs to push her feet against one of the awning poles. Now sprawled across the bench, she relaxes ever so slightly. It’s their fault for not being up to the task of actually raising the kid they conceived.    
  
Beau stretches and breathes. The rain hammers down on the awning, covering up almost any other sound except for the occasional car. Beau forces herself to focus on the rhythm of the rain, tapping her fingers against her arm. She doesn’t want to think of her shitty parents right now. She wants to breathe, not be suffocated by their expectations and utter lack of love and understanding.   
  
A loud giggle makes her jerk upright, eyes scanning the park. A good few feet away, in the middle of the concrete lot, Beau spots a girl. She is laughing, spinning in a circle, her blue hair flying through the air. A long skirt follows her circles in a wide sprawl, flowers crawling up the light pink material.    
  
Beau scowls. How can someone look this happy in weather as shitty as this? She leans back again but finds her eyes drifting towards the girl. She has stopped spinning, but is instead starting to swing her legs, shoulders shaking from side to side to music only she seems to hear. Booted feet kick at puddles, leaving sprays of water to fly through the air.   
  
At least someone is having a better day than her, she muses and finds something in her chest loosen at the sight of the girl dancing with pure joy. The girl seems to be focused on the street to the right of Beau’s spot.   
  
“Come ooooooon, you said you’d join meee,” she calls with an accented voice, wiggling her arms in the direction of the street. “The rain makes it even more fun!”    
  
Beau sinks deeper into her seat. An older man walks into her line of sight, a raincoat and umbrella shielding him from the worst of it. Beau strains her ears. She’s not eavesdropping, she tells herself. They are in a public space.   
  
“We promised your mother to be home before dinner, kiddo,” says a deep rumbly voice. “She will worry.”    
  
The girl jumps in place. “You’re right!” She doesn’t deflate, as Beau expected her to. “Come on, then!” The girl yells, grabbing the man’s arm and tugging back towards the street. “Momma is waiting for me.”    
  
The two leave the park and Beau heaves a sigh, running her hands over her face. Not everybody dreads the notion of having to go home to waiting parents, she thinks to herself. Lucky fuckers. She leans back, eyes moving up to the awning once more. She will wait out the rain. Her parents can fucking deal.

 

\---

 

Beau feels silly, going back to the park the next time her parents decide to focus their disappointed gazes on her school record again. She doesn’t deny the weird spark of hope to see the dancing girl again, remembers the odd second-hand happiness she felt at watching someone be that carefree. 

She sits on the same bench and stretches out, but keeps her eyes on the parkgoers. It’s not empty like the last time she sat here, the sun still up and the sky blue above. Entire families mill about the skating ground, teens skating up the half pipes and sitting on the lawn on the other side. Beau sees and smells the smoke of cigarettes and weed and itches at her upper arm. She’s not here for that, she decides.    
  
Her eyes scan the crowds for blue hair but find nothing except for the occasional blue article of clothes. She looks down at her blue sweats and rolls her eyes.    
  
Half an hour goes by without her eyes spotting the girl and Beau thumbs at the seam of her shirt. She doesn’t know why she was thinking she would magically see the girl again, doesn’t know why she’s looking for her in the first place. It’s stupid, she tells herself, to look for someone you saw once and didn’t even talk to. So she leans back, grabs her marker out of her pocket, and starts writing on the metal pole next to her head.    
  
She may as well be productive, at the very least. 

  
  
\---   


 

She goes back to the park regularly, but carefully doesn’t spend time looking for the girl again. She smokes with a group her age one afternoon, doesn’t go back to them the next time. Instead, she remains near the awning every following visit. The bench isn’t always free and Beau curses more than necessary when she walks to the park to find her usual spots taken up. The feeling of relaxation and simple joy doesn’t come back. 

So when another evening comes with torrential rain, Beau doesn’t really expect to see the girl at the park. She grabs her phone and earbuds before climbing through the window onto the garage. The rain makes her journey down slower than usual, but before long she is walking up the street towards the park, music blasting in her ears.   
  
The park is empty when she arrives. Of course. The street lights flicker on as she stops next to her usual bench. She hesitates, hand resting on a pole. She contemplates her spot, the peeling paint, the rickety wood. She turns her head to look towards the center of the park and huffs. Her earbuds play a new song and she makes a decision.

Straightening her shoulders, she walks into the rain and down to the center, careful not to slip on the downward slope. Single puddles have begun to form in the corners when she stops and looks around. “What the fuck am I doing?” She asks out loud. The rain doesn’t offer any answer and Beau shakes her head. Shoving her hand into her pocket, she turns up her music and starts moving.    
  
It takes her a while to stop feeling silly, but the longer she forces herself to ignore the Hollywood cliché feel of what she is doing, the easier it becomes. The knot in her chest starts to loosen and Beau feels the tug of a smile on her face when she starts spinning in place. Her clothes stick to her skin. Single hair strands have fallen out of her knot and feel plastered onto her face. Beau keeps dancing. 

It’s only when she stops to pose dramatically at the climax of the music that she realizes she has an audience. A short girl with a green raincoat and a bee-patterned skirt is clapping enthusiastically. She looks around Beau’s age. Blue bangs peek out from her hood. Her mouth is moving and Beau scrambles to pull her earbuds out. 

“-really looked like it was out of a movie, you know? So good!” The girl smiles brightly at her and Beau blinks.    
  
“Uh, thanks?” She awkwardly stuffs her earbuds into her soaked pocket and winces.    
  
“You’re welcome,” the girl exclaims. Her hand shoots out towards Beau. “I’m Jester!”    
  
Beau stares at the hand before hastily shaking it. Get it together, she tells herself. “Beauregard.”    
  
“Oh, that’s a cool name. I don’t think I’ve heard that before, it sounds like a book hero name.” The girl’s handshake is firm. She steps closer and grins up at Beau.   
  
Beau begs her brain not to short circuit. Gods, Jester is cute. “It’s an okay name, I guess.” She realizes she’s still holding onto Jester’s hand and quickly drops it. Jester seems unfazed by her lack of enthusiasm about her name.    
  
“I love dancing in the rain, I was here doing it like super recently. It really reminds me of the cute movies and books where they kiss in the rain, you know?”Jester steps away from Beau to stomp her foot into a puddle. “Plus, I always think it makes dancing extra fun, because you can splash people.”    
  
Beau watches Jester jump into the puddle with a soft smile. “Yeah, I can see that.”    
  
“You looked like you were having so much fun,” Jester says and turns to face Beau. “You had music, right?”    
  
“Yeah, my phone.” Beau looks down at her pocket and frowns. “I bet it’s fucking soaked now.”    
  
“Can you put something cool on? I can have the phone in my coat pocket so it won’t soak.” Jester skips back over and holds out her hand. Beau raises her eyebrows. Jester’s expectant expression morphs into surprise.    
  
“Oh!” She claps her other hand against her forehead. “I promise I don’t want to, like, steal your phone or something. I have my own at home, so it’s not like I need another one, see?” Jester pulls her fingers into a fist and holds out her pinky. “Pinky promise I won’t steal your phone.” 

Beau doesn’t know what possesses her to believe Jester. Maybe it’s the sheer amount of enthusiasm, maybe the charming accent. Maybe it’s her smile. She curls her pinky around Jester’s and smirks. “I’ll hold you to that.”    
  
Jester starts jumping on the spot. “Awesome! I wanna dance to music, come on!”    
  
Beau bends over her phone to shelter it from the rain as much as she can. She scrolls through her playlist for a second before hitting a random song. Jester starts swaying to the melody almost instantly, tucking the phone into her pocket once Beau hands it over.    
  
“That’s a really nice song,” she says with a smile. Beau thinks she might stop functioning. It takes effort not to respond with “Gods, I’m gay”. Instead, she nods.    
  
“It is.” She doesn’t know what to do with herself. It feels awkward to start dancing again, now that she is aware that someone is set on watching her intently. Jester doesn’t seem to have the same issue, her body swaying and feet tapping on the ground. Her arms are spread out, wiggling as rain runs down her sleeves.    
  
Beau starts swaying slowly, but can’t get herself to match Jester. The shorter girl seems to notice her hesitance because she slows down and steps closer to Beau again. She holds out both her hands. “This song feels like a partner song, right? It definitely sounds like one. Can we dance?”    
  
Her hood has fallen back slightly, her bangs now sticking to her forehead. Beau can see freckles across dark skin, dimples accentuating Jester’s wide smile. Screw it, she thinks. “Sure.”    
  
Jester whoops with delight and grabs Beau’s hands, clumsily tugging her into a partner position. “I’ve seen this in movies,” she says. “But they don’t show who leads with two girls. Do you know?”    
  
Beau hums. “Doesn’t really matter. The one that knows the dance the best, probably.” Jester’s hands are surprisingly warm where they hold onto Beau. “I can if you want.” Those awful partner dance courses, finally coming in handy, she thinks to herself. If only her parents could see what she is using the training for.    
  
Jester flutters her eyelashes. “Please, oh mighty Beauregard.” Her giggles undermine the dramatic tone of her voice, but Beau feels herself flush with embarrassment nonetheless. She shifts their position and starts leading Jester in a circle, the music not quite fitting with the traditional waltz. But Jester is laughing and Beau mirrors the sound without a thought, their laughter almost as loud as the music coming from Jester’s coat pocket.    
  
Songs change and their dance devolves from a waltz into Jester making up new steps to match the speed of the music, tugging Beau into spins with a surprising amount of strength. From time to time, Jester starts telling stories, her dancing never stopping as she gives a dramatic retelling of watching a bug carry a whole slice of bread across the doorstep of her home.    
  
Beau listens, focusing on the step sequence invented by Jester and failing to stop herself from staring at Jester’s face. “That sounds wild,” she says when Jester pauses to catch her breath. She watches fondly as the blue-haired girl nods enthusiastically.    
  
“Right? It was super crazy.” Jester wraps her arms around Beau and starts spinning, the song faster than their prior steps. Beau clings to Jester and looks down to where Jester is looking up at her.    
  
Jester stops the spin abruptly, moving into a dip instead. Beau stumbles at the movement and just barely catches herself on Jester’s grip. “Whoops,” Jester giggles and pulls Beau upright. “That was so fast, sorry.” Before Beau can tell her that it’s fine, strong arms lock around her middle in a hug.    
  
Beau freezes, her arms hanging loosely across Jester’s shoulders. “It’s okay, don’t worry,” she stutters, carefully hugging Jester back. When was the last time she hugged someone?   
  
“This is so much fun,” Jester exhales against Beau’s collarbone.    
  
“It is,” Beau responds. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a while.” She steps away, suddenly feeling awkward.    
  
Jester beams up at her. “We should totally do this again, right?” She digs out Beau’s phone. “I can give you my number!”    
  
Beau exhales a breath she doesn’t recall holding. Fuck, she really doesn’t want this to be over already. “Sure.” She reaches over to unlock her phone and Jester excitedly starts tapping out her number into Beau’s contacts.    
  
“Jester?” Comes a low voice from the direction of the street. Beau looks up to find the older man from last time walking towards them with his umbrella. “Your mother called, we should be heading home.”    
  
Jester blows a raspberry into the air. “I totally forgot!” She turns back to Beau. “I have to go home.” She hands over Beau’s phone. “Thank you so much for dancing with me, I had so much fun!” She jumps to press a kiss to Beau’s cheek. “Text me, so I have your number, okay?” She points at Beau. “Important!”    
  
Beau, stunned, nods. “I will.” Jester giggles and turns to sprint towards the man.    
  
“I’m coming, Blude!”    
  
Beau watches the two of them walk towards a car, raising her hand to rest against the spot where Jester kissed her. “Wow.” Her heart is thudding in her chest. Damn, what a girl. Beau moves towards the awning as if in a daze, pulling up her contacts on her phone.    
  
She grins at “Jester, best ever dancer” and taps out a quick text, sitting down on her usual bench. She pointedly ignores the heat in her cheeks as she hits send.   
  
_ Thanks for the best dance ever.  _

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to drop by my [cr twitter](https://twitter.com/nottanycritter) and [cr tumblr](https://nottanothercritter.tumblr.com).


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